softens. “It’s my pleasure.”
Chapter 2
Lincoln drives me to a warehouse not unlike the one he drove me to when Zane and I first met. There’s a flurry of activity going on; the wall next to the door is missing. People on golf carts are driving in and out, hollering at one another. One woman is carrying pillows. Another has a bouquet of red roses.
“Wow,” I say, stepping from the limo. “Is all this for me?” I wink at Lincoln. One side of his mouth lifts but doesn’t quite make a full smile. “It’s so busy,” I whisper, trying not to sound like an overly nervous idiot. Not even I’m convinced, though.
Linc oln pats my shoulder. I’m guessing it’s his way of comforting me. “Mr. Zane has asked me to help you find your way around. He’ll be by later, but asked me to wish you good luck.” Lincoln is wearing aviator shades and I can’t see his dark eyes. It bothers me. It’s easier to tell what a person is really thinking by looking in their eyes.
I shrug. “Okay. Thanks, Lincoln.”
He turns. “Come on.” His bulky body is stuffed into a black suit. The way he moves reminds me of a well dressed WWE wrestler.
I follow, weaving in and out of rushing people. Like ants , they all seem to have someplace to be.
Taking a deep breath, I work to pretend I belong.
The inside of the warehouse has been divided into different sections. To the right is a set. It reminds me of a luxurious bedroom. There are three walls. They’ve been wallpapered in red velvet. Black scalloped swirls split the room in half. In the center of the back wall is a bed, and I can’t help but think of John and me in it together. Above the bed is a large painting, a man and woman wrapped in a beautiful quilt. The man is kissing the woman. It’s beautiful. Sensual. On the bed is a black comforter. There are dozens of pillows on it. On either side of the bed is a small table. A lamp sits on each one.
Toward the back of the warehouse are several racks of clothes. They are separated by color: White. Red. Black. Gray. Green.
Directly across from the bedroom set is a large mirror , surrounded by bright lights. It sits on a table covered with makeup. Two hairdresser chairs are tucked near the table.
John sits in one.
His eyes are closed . A young woman with sleek black hair pats his face with a foundation sponge. The woman says something to him and he laughs.
My heart lurches as a hundred butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Will we get to kiss ? I wonder.
Lincoln walks me over to John and the woman. He clears his throat. I can’t help but hide behind him. Nervous. Out of my element. I never wanted to be an actress. Technically I’m only going to be doing what I do, which is fuck men for money… pretend to fuck , anyway. But this time I’m doing it with a man I have feelings for, in front of a camera crew. I shudder.
The woman looks at Lincoln and her face immediately brightens. “Can I help you?” she asks, totally ignoring me, her gaze on Lincoln.
He steps to the s ide so that I’m exposed. John opens his eyes, and when he sees me he sits up straight.
“This is Cadence. She’ll be the body double for the scenes filmed today.”
John shoots me a big smile, showing off his amazing dimple. My thighs turn to jelly.
The woman sticks out her hand to Lincoln. “I’m Mindy.” Her olive skin colors and she bats her eyelashes.
“Nice to meet you. Will you be doing Cadence’s makeup?” he asks, turning the attention to me.
I’m busy pretending not to stare at John and the fact that he’s so fucking handsome I want to lick him.
Mindy pulls her eyes from Lincoln. “Have you spoken with the director?” She searches the packed warehouse. “There he is.” She moves away. “Nigel. Nigel.”
A man with thick salt and pepper hair and clothes straight out of Miami Vice turns. “What is it, Mindy?” He’d been in the process of taking a drink of coffee.
Mindy points at me. “This is the girl doing
Barbara Boswell, Lisa Jackson, Linda Turner